The next thing she knew,everything was still. She’d passed out again, and now the car w. She was still in the trunk, but God knew where. She was drenched in sweat and dizzy. Whatever they’d shot her up with was still in her system. The smells of auto exhaust, dust, and pine filled the trunk. They had to be in the mountains.
Sylvie heard voices outside the car.
“She’s out cold.”
“She is, huh? That’s a good thing, huh?”
“Just give me my money and she’s all yours.”
She listened to the jangle of keys passing from one hand to another and the driver’s side door opening and closing. The car started and rolled forward.
It’s now or never. Don’t you dare fall asleep again, Sylvie!
She felt around the trunk again, desperate. What if he’d not only taken the backpack and her gun but searched the trunk and found—
There. Paper crackled under her fingers. An innocuous, oversized bandage wrapper. Tears sprang to her eyes. They hadn’t searched her trunk, or else along with her backpack they would have found this, taken it, and she would be a dead woman. Sylvie tore the paper open. Behind the bandage were the two things she needed—a blade and a spare key to the handcuffs.
Sylvie didn’t have much room to maneuver in the small trunk, so she’d have to undo the handcuffs behind her back. After some fumbling—the guy was a terrible driver, and from the way the car bounced they must have been going over a logging road—she managed to spring the lock. The first thing she did was tear the bag off her head.
Another big bounce and she banged her head against the top of the trunk. Fighting against nausea and unconsciousness, she felt around again for the blade. When she found it, she went to work on the zip tie, hoping she had time to cut through it before they got wherever they were going. This was definitely a logging road. They had to be in the middle of nowhere, and climbing a steep slope.
There. She’d cut through the zip tie.
Now, to open the trunk from the inside. She’d rigged that during the restoration. George had insisted on it, just like leaving a key and a blade hidden in a bandage wrapper—just on the crazy off-chance that she’d ever find herself kidnapped and stuffed into her own trunk.
The car stopped.Fuck. The driver’s door opened and shoes crunched on gravel as someone walked around to the back of the car. This new guy thought she was unconscious so at least she had the element of surprise on her side.
When the trunk opened, Sylvie was ready. The sudden light blinded her, but she sprang up and swung wildly. Her fist connected with the guy’s nose and scraped something sharp. She heard her car keys hit the ground as she clambered out of the trunk.
“Ow,fuck!” he shouted as he covered his face. “Fuck! It went through, bitch!”
Sylvie had no idea what he was talking about. Her attention was on grabbing her keys and getting the hell out of there. She bent down, fighting a wave of vertigo, and grabbed the key ring. Sylvie stumbled toward the driver’s side and got in. She started the car and threw her baby into reverse, hoping she might run the asshole over in the process. She missed as he tried to grab the door handle. His face was covered in blood and…was that a toothpick speared through his upper lip?
No time to wonder, seeing as he’d pulled a pistol out of his waistband and was aiming for her windshield. Sylvie tried to turn the Mustang but she wasn’t fast enough. Glass shattered and rained down as her right shoulder exploded in pain. Blood and glass covered the seat. The Mustang spun on the gravel and the back slammed into an El Camino coming up the road. The impact drove her into the steering wheel, taking her breath and stunning her.
All she could think wasMy poor baby car.
Sylvie opened the door to run but there were already three men waiting. They dragged her out of the Mustang. A giant of a man flung her over his shoulder to carry her to the dilapidated shack. Blood poured from her shoulder down his back. Despite her shoulder screaming in pain, Sylvie tried to break free. Toothpick pointed his pistol at her head. He’d pulled out the toothpick, but the hole it left behind continued to bleed.
“Enough of that, huh? You’ve fucked up my face, I should kill you now. But your ass is worth something.”
She stilled as the world started to fade out. Sylvie was barely aware when they entered the shack.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Alex silently willed Shane to drive faster. He was in one of Watchdog’s SUVs with Kyle and Wolf. Another SUV followed, carrying Jake, Gina, Brock, and Mack. Shane’s friend who had been staking out Del Rio’s apartment said the man had made a move half an hour ago. This teammate—known only as Lion—followed Del Rio from Longmont into the mountains. He called Shane to tell him that Del Rio had pulled off at a scenic lookout where there was only one other car.
A cherry red 1967 Mustang.
Lion had driven a few hundred yards ahead of the turnoff and pulled over into a private road to wait.
“Cherry Red drove past me five minutes ago and I’m in pursuit. Del Rio’s behind the wheel, no sign of the package. He took that dirt road on the left at Sullivan Gulch, just before the bridge at Waltonia. Hurry and you’ll see my dust.”
“Roger. You got eyes on them?”
“Negative. Hanging back and followingtheirdust.Fuck!”
“Lion?” Shane asked, and Alex’s gut clenched.
